The Revenge, Finding the Pirate

The previous installment of 13-year-old Chloe Bradshaw’s dark take can be found here.

“I seek information,” Luke told the vampire before him.“I wish to know the whereabouts of a pirate.”

“And what pirate is that?”

“Jace has seen him.”

Morwena’s face turned to me. “What does he look like?” She asked.

I closed my eyes and re-lived the scene of my father’s murder, something which I had done many a time. I described him as well as I could. I grimaced when I remembered the sword plunging into my father’s belly.

I opened my eyes and, surprisingly, saw sympathy in the face of the vampire. I was confused, I had no idea that vampires were capable of feeling this way.

“I am sorry.” She whispered. I nodded, uncomfortable because her dark eyes were gazing solemnly at me.

“Did he have a gem in the hilt of his sword?” She asked.

“No.”

“Alright then.” She paused and her eyes travelled the room, as though searching for something. “Did he have a large necklace?” She finally said.

I was about to say ‘no’ again when I remembered a large gold necklace and a great ruby talisman on it.

“I thought as much.” Morwena uttered when I described it. Read More »

The Revenge: The Fellow Undead

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s tale can be found here.

That morning, I asked Luke what our plan was.

“I know people who will give us a ship for free,” he answered mysteriously as we headed towards Land’s End.

“And I have money for food,” Jay announced.

“You two go on and buy some food for the journey whilst I get us that ship, I won’t be long meet me back at the port, ” Luke told us when we reached Land’s End.

Jay and I walked into a shop and bought some salted beef, salted pork, limes, biscuits, and rum, all of that came to about eighteen guineas. After that we headed back towards the port, where Luke told us to meet him.

We saw Luke standing proud at the docks, pointing to a ship behind him. I was amazed at how he got it, considering that he didn’t pay for it.

“I told you I could get you a ship for free!” He shouted with joy.

“How did you manage it?” I asked.

“Old friends,” he winked.

“At least we have enough food this time,” I joked. I looked at the ship, it was small, but the wood was beautifully carved and the masts looked strong and sturdy. We all took a small dinghy over to the ship.

On board, I gazed into the sky at the clouds that passed by, without a care in the world. Jay stood next to me, watching the clouds like I.

“Shall we get a move on?” Luke asked, shattering the silence.

We hoisted the anchor. The ship soon set sail. I had a good feeling about going out of port this time, with a ship manageable enough for three people, and with no other crew members to worry about.

“Do we have any extra weapons?” I asked.

“No,” Jay told me, I looked over at Luke who shook his head.

“Fine, we shall stop at the next port to stock up on weaponry. Where is the closest port?”

“It’s where we will be going, Falmouth.” Luke told me.

“Right then, next stop Falmouth.”

The sea was not as bad that day, however it was still pretty rough. Come to think of it, the sea was never still round there and it still isn’t to this day. Read More »

The Revenge: The Bane of Immortality

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s pirate saga can be found here.

While I thought about my brother and contemplated my undead state, Luke sat nearby, eyes closed.

“I am ready to leave.” I told him when the thinking got to be too much.

“Alright.”

I followed his lead as we both walked to the edge of the rock and jumped in. I was expecting the water to be cold, even after Luke said it wouldn’t be. I didn’t even feel wet. The current moved me up and down. The birds stayed away from us and wouldn’t come near.

“Animals are nervous around us, for we are not entirely human now,” Luke explained.

Swimming felt effortless, like I wasn’t even moving my arms and legs. Land seemed to be bearing closer, faster then possible. I felt the wind in my hair, but not the cold.

We reached Land’s End and its port. When we we climbed onto the wooden dock, I looked down at my clothes. They were bone dry. I glanced at Luke and noticed that he too had come up dry.

We started walking. Silence filled the air like a plague. The hills were breathtaking, heather covered most of them, making the hills look purple. I saw horses grazing in the nearby fields, as well as sheep. People were wrapped up warm and the leaves blew in the wind, the only sign that it was cold. As before, we came upon Sennen at record speed.

I was so content just walking through the cobbled streets of my home town. The sensation of being back really was wonderful. It felt like I had been gone for a life time. I saw Luke looking around and I had the feeling that he had not been here before.

“No,” he said when I asked him. “I never saw the point, I favoured going to places far away from home, and Sennen is too close to home.”

I felt great sympathy for Luke. It must have been grim, spending so many years alone. And I was also grateful that I would not spend years alone without anyone to talk to. Read More »

The Revenge: The Drowned

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s pirate saga can be found here.

Floating in the sea I looked around in search for the other members of my doomed crew.

I couldn’t see through the sheet of rain. I did manage to glimpse Mr Williams’ figure, head bobbing up and down over the waves. With the last ounce of strength I had I swam towards him. When I arrived, he looked in pretty bad shape

He couldn’t stay afloat and I couldn’t keep him at the surface. Tears came to my eyes. I still feel responsible for his death, and as I am writing this, the same tears are forming again. I couldn’t save no matter how much I wanted to. He looked at me, eyes wide with fear. His expression froze before he sank to the sea bed.

I glanced around in hope that I would see someone else. Alas, no one was in sight. I looked around desperately once more, before I started to swim towards Long Ships. The water was freezing and my heartbeat was slowing. I was running out of hope.

The rain was still pounding and the storm still taunting. I wasn’t that far away from Long Ships, when I realized I couldn’t go any further. It was painful when I breathed in, like someone was pounding upon my ribcage with fists of steel.

My eyes were shutting. I felt numb, the coldness didn’t reach me now. I wasn’t in pain just awfully tired. I stopped panicking, there was no point. I let my eyes close and the current took me. Read More »

The Revenge: The Ship’s Death

Chloe Bradshaw is 13. The previous installment of her pirate saga can be found here.

The man who stood before me was supposed to be dead, and yet he wasn’t.

“How?” I said in a gasp.

“I cannot answer that, for I don’t know either.”

“How old are you?”

“I have been around for about a century.”

“Have you ever died?” Mr Williams interrupted.

“Yes, once, …” Luke’s mind seemed to wander. “It was awful.”

My face must have betrayed a rush of sympathy toward him.

“Do not feel sorry for me, I have seen many things in my time.” He insisted.

“Yes, I’m sure you have but haven’t you ever wished that you could die?” I asked.

“Most of the time. However, I have learned to live with immortality. One has to, after a while.”

I wanted him to meet my crew, deciding to keep mum about his amazing abilities for a while.

Up the stairs we went, the steps creaking underfoot as they had before, seemingly a million years ago. I noticed that Luke’s feet made no sound, as though he was walking on air. Read More »

The Revenge: Witness to a Murder

Chloe Bradshaw is 13. She counts Darren Shan as one of her main writing influences. Her favourite subjects at school are Drama, History, and English. This is the first installment of “The Revenge,” one of her many stories.

Mine is a hellish tale, one of treachery, bloodshed and piracy; life, death, and life after death. My story will haunt me forever.

It starts in my house at Sennen, two miles from Lands End, in 1720. I was only about fifteen when it began, but I still remember it as clear as day. I was with my twin brother Jay and my father. Father was explaining something about ships. He used to be a pirate and he carried a few grisly tales in his memory. We grew up knowing that he was banished from the ship when he stole a bottle of the captain’s favourite rum.

A loud rap at the door had interrupted our conversation.

“You two wait at the back, and do not let yourselves be seen,” our father told us. My brother Jay and I looked at each other uncertainly. “I just want you to be out of the way.”

I was frustrated, but also very curious. Never before had he asked us to leave the room when someone was at the door.

I stormed out of the room, Jay following behind me. I remember scanning the door, trying to find the hole which was caused by one of my Father’s guns (all I will say is that I managed to get hold of one when I was little). I found the bullet hole near the bottom of the door and crouched down. I had a perfect view of the room. After the incident was over, I wished that I had not found it.

“I don’t think you should be watching him.” Jay said.

“Eh,” I grunted, finishing the conversation off. I did like my brother, don’t get me wrong, but he could be such a brown nose!

I watched as my Father opened the door. A man stood in the doorway, he was tall, and wore a thick brown coat and a lot of jewellery. He had a presence about him which made you want to run for the hills. Although I had some doubts, I was fairly sure that we were being paid a visit by a pirate.

“It has been fifteen years, Lucian, it is time,” Read More »

The Polygamist

Imam Idris Sultan was unmarried, and for this reason he approved of polygamy.

He was a religious figure in “this irreligious society” where polygamy was looked down upon. His open advocacy of the practice allowed the impious to label him “a pervert just like us” — a fact that caused him great agitation. He did not think polygamy was a mark of perversion and therefore tried to set forth various arguments as to the benefits of the practice.

He invoked altruism. He identified the vast number of women in the world that were orphaned and suffering and homeless. He thought to himself that if such women could, three or four at a time, be matched up with healthy middle-class males (such as himself), then the world would be a much better place for all.

However, this welfare oriented argument always floundered when he remembered that he lived in a so called “welfare state.”

If he really wanted to help women in trouble, the more appropriate thing to do in such a society wasn’t to marry multiple times, but to become involved in politics, assist in the passage of helpful legislation, or volunteer at the women’s shelter and write grants — in other words, engage in ventures that benefitted all the women, and not just the troubled ones that he was attracted to (which would be very selfish and not at all altruist).

Unable to devise a convincing argument as to the merits of polygamy caused Imam Idris a great deal of despair. If he could not even convince himself about the viability of Islamic polygamy in this day and age, how would he influence his congregants about the more complex things of the faith?

They would turn soft in their practice, and slowly drift towards apostasy, and then he would have to imagine stoning them in his head while publicly assuring them that “in this pluralist age you are free to leave the faith as you please.” Read More »

Peanut Butter and Magic

Why did I eat that doughnut? Why? What possessed me? I knew it looked sketchy, all sealed up in that plastic bag with a giant smiley face stamped on the front. My innards are so not smiling. Why couldn’t the flight attendants serve something real for breakfast? Like pancakes and peanut butter? Oh, man…I’m scared I’m going to have an airplane lavatory emergency…

I’m just going to write and ignore it. We’re going to land soon. Everything will be fine.

You’re probably wondering why I’m keeping a journal in the first place (whoever you are). Well, I’m leaving the country—leaving Urbana, Illinois, actually—for the first time in my life. I’m braving airplane rides and sketchy doughnuts to find adventure, at last. I’m off to Norway! The land of trolls, fjords, magic, new beginnings…

Oh, man. I don’t feel good. But we’re landing…

Not good.

Rushing to the lavatory while the plane is hitting the ground is much more exciting than I would’ve thought. I had to hang onto the rail and sink for dear life with my pants around my ankles as the plane bounced to a careening halt on the runway. I almost dropped my glasses down the toilet. Luckily, I feel much better now. I kicked open the lavatory door before the plane was completely stopped, made a flight attendant scream, and hurtled to my seat, where I buckled up and pretended like I’d been sitting the whole time.

It’s lucky I went when I did. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one affected by those doughnuts. When I got to baggage claim, crowds of people were shoving past each other to get to the bathrooms. I think there were laxatives in those things.

Anyway, if I’d been rushing to the bathroom then, I wouldn’t have seen the short, smiling lady, holding a sign that proclaimed, “Welcome Ellie Steelhart!”

I straightened my glasses and strode to meet her, trying not to gape. She looked like…like a creature from Norwegian lore. White hair puffed around her head like a mushroom cap. Her nose, pickled and ballooned, stretched out over a smile that reminded me of grandmothers and kindly old neighbors who bake cookies for the local kids. Only, since she looked she crawled out of a toadstool, I imagined she baked for the local gnomes. Read More »

Pirates and Parallel Parking

Lucy Peterson wouldn’t describe herself as the kind of girl who teaches Russian men how to walk the plank, plucks old ladies’ whiskers to gussy them up for dates, and avoids parallel parking…but she was that kind of girl.

Lucy’s life circled around four entities. The first was taking piano lessons from the aforementioned Russian man, because she liked piano and music helped her escape from the day to day insanities of her life. It was an unusual perk that Dr. Sabanov thought the KGB was after him and, because of his almost-but-not-quite-fluent English, constantly asked the meaning of phrases like, “You drive me bonkers” and “Walk the plank.”

“What is this walk the plank?” Patrick told me to walk the plank, what means this?”; “What is this ‘bonkers’?” Patrick was Dr. Sabanov’s other piano student. Lucy shared classes with him sometimes. He seemed nice enough (other than ordering their teacher to walk the plank), but she could never tell if he was smiling or not, due to a beard the size of a small mountain lion that smothered half his face. Read More »

My Life for a Witness

He doesn’t know he is walking the dead. He doesn’t know he is dead either. He walks the dead, day and night, by land and by sea, past the stretches of memory. He doesn’t know how long he will have to walk, how far north and how far south, how far east and how far west.

The thought of direction, of destiny, of a point of arrival, like an insight extracted from a perturbing sight or a glimpse of light in a blind dark night, torments his walk. He walks and walks until he comes to the field where they dropped dead like flies in a pool of light. He recognizes the faces, for they were all alive once. Only he knows they were alive once, for no men, no women, no children, no journalists, no embedded moralists, no risk-taking leftists, and no bushbiting infidels will come forward and say in plain English, these men who are now dead were once alive and well. Read More »